


Broken Vow

by ls201



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Angst, Depression, M/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 02:14:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2133252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ls201/pseuds/ls201
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’d promised to never abandon each other. They were stupid kids, but they’d made a vow, and Deimos had never broken a vow before. Now, Sacha thinks, staring at the dark, empty coffin, he had to go and break his most important vow, the most important vow he’d ever made.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Vow

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there, Starfighter community! This is my first piece of work that I've posted here, and thank you for taking the time to read it. I'm honored to join such a wonderful fandom, and there are so many talented authors on here!  
> Please note that if you are triggered by self-harm, depression, or suicide, please do not read. If there are any triggers that I need to add, please tell me and I will gladly add them!  
> I am a new member of AO3, so I will definitely make some mistakes. I apologize in advance for that!  
> I would also like to credit hamletmachine for her characters from her fabulous webcomic Starfighter. I would also like to credit the fandom for the names Sacha for Cain and Aleks for Deimos. I cannot remember the specific authors who came up with these names for the characters, so if you know, please comment below so I can add it in.  
> Again, thank you for reading, and sorry for this ridiculously long note!

They’d promised to never abandon each other. They were stupid kids, but they’d made a vow, and Deimos had never broken a vow before. Now, Sacha thinks, staring at the dark, empty coffin, he had to go and break his most important vow, the most important vow he’d ever made. 

“Cain.” The hand on his shoulder startles him, he’s so caught up in his grief, but Sacha knows this is a voice he should turn around for, so he does. It’s Abel, dark eyes shining with unspilled tears, looking like he’s carrying the weight of the fucking universe on his shoulders. 

“They just buried him,” Abel whispers. He’s been whispering since they were informed of Deimos’ death, like he’s scared Sacha will shatter if he talks any louder. Sacha nods, but Abel just stares at him, like he’s expecting an answer, so Sacha gives him one.

“I know,” he says simply, shrugging his shoulders when Abel looks surprised. “I didn’t want to see it. They don’t care about colony rats like me and Deimos, of course they would fucking bury him in a rotting wooden box, why would the Alliance waste a nice coffin on someone like him?” Sacha gestures to the empty coffin, the one they’d used to transport Deimos’ body to Colony Five, the one he’s been staring at for an hour. 

“ _Cain_.” Abel’s voice is so soft and broken, like a shard of glass right to Sacha’s heart, and he can’t stand it. He has to leave, now, before he fucks up and says something he’ll regret, something he might not get to take back if Abel pulls a Deimos and leaves him.  Sacha walks out of the room and into the cold, biting air of Colony Five, the shitty polluted kind that gives you one lung disease or another when you’re old and gray. 

He doesn’t think about where he’s going; Sacha just walks, lets his feet take him where his blackened heart wants him to be. When he stops and looks up, Sacha can’t help but cringe; he’s at their old house, the shack he shared with the little mouse for a year before their enlistment. It’s tiny and cramped, with a water-stained, dark exterior and shingles falling off the roof, but it was home. Sacha thinks for a second, then shakes his head. No, _this_ wasn’t home. For that year, home was walking through the door and finding Deimos at the kitchen table, reading a vintage newspaper from Earth he’d bought for fifty cents. Home was kissing his mouse and tasting iron on his lips. Home was the scent of the crappy air fresheners Deimos bought to try to mask the smell of the rotting wood.

Selfishly, Sacha’s eyes well with tears, because damn it, every part of home involved _Deimos_. And now there is no home, because there is no Deimos, no _myshonok_ to abuse and feel guilty for it later, no spy to help him fuck his life up a little less, no friend to talk shit about Abel with whenever they have a fight. No Deimos. No home. Now Colony Five is just another useless planet to him, because what’s the point of living somewhere if you don’t have a real home to come back to?  

_Abel can be your home_ , Sacha reminds himself. _Abel_ wants _to be your home. Deimos wouldn’t want this,_ tupoy. _He would tell you to suck it up and keep going, because that’s what he always did, even when no one asked him to._ Sacha pauses in his thought. _Well, he wouldn’t tell you, he’d just give you a look that said everything. That’s what he always did._

So Sacha decides he’ll let Abel be his home. He walks back to the funeral home, now empty except for Keeler and Encke, who are chatting in the corner. Encke has a glass of cheap whiskey in his hand and an impatient look on his face. The lieutenants have to escort the soldiers who attended the funeral back to the _Sleipnir_ , to make sure they don’t do anything stupid and cost the Alliance another man. Only a handful of people other than the lieutenants had shown up — Sacha, Abel, Phobos, Praxis and Ethos. Ethos cried like a baby, Praxis remained stoic, and Phobos disappeared immediately after arriving. God only knows why the prissy navigator had even bothered to show up; he and Deimos weren’t exactly buddies.

Sacha walks past the lieutenants, avoids Keeler’s sad, inquisitive smile and Encke’s pursed lips.  He’s heading straight for the graveyard when a pathetic, sniveling noise stops him in his tracks. Sacha looks around, and directly to his right, tucked away in a small, shadowy corner, is Deimos’ useless little navigator. He’s clearly been crying non-stop; his eyes are swollen and red, and tear tracks create a map of despair on his face. 

“Go away," Phobos sniffles, trying to wipe away his tears with a tissue far too damp for that purpose. Sighing at the pathetic sight in front of him, Sacha pulls out a fancy linen cloth, some Earth bullshit that Abel gave him earlier, and hands it to the whimpering blond. 

“Thank you?” Phobos mutters, looking up at Sacha questioningly, like he doesn’t trust him and maybe he’s poisoned the fucking thing. Sacha rolls his eyes and doesn’t respond, just lets the navigator clean himself up for a few minutes until he’s maybe ready to talk.

“So what’s eating you?” Sacha says gruffly, pulling a cig and a lighter out of his pocket and lighting up. 

Coughing slightly from the smoke, Phobos narrows his eyes and hisses, “ _What_?”

“What’s eating you?” Sacha repeats, losing patience already. “AKA, what’s bothering you enough to make you cry like a fucking five-year-old girl when _Deimos_ , the person whose life we’re here to _remember_ , when _Deimos_ was going through so much pain every day of his life and never said a word?” 

“I miss him,” Phobos whines, eyes tearing up again. _Jesus, already the waterworks?_ Still, there’s a pain in Phobos’ eyes that Sacha knows well, the raw ache of losing someone you love, and it suddenly clicks into place in his mind.

“Oh, Christ,” Sacha groans, flicking ash onto the ground, “you were in love with the asshole, weren’t you?” 

Phobos nods, quickly growing defensive. “What’s it to you?” he snaps, sounding every bit the quintessential mean girl in those stupid chick flicks Abel loves.

“Nothing,” Sacha says quickly, raising his hands up. “I’ve been there before, don’t be such a bitch about it.” He softens, knowing how this must be tearing Phobos apart. “Look, you’re blaming yourself for it, aren’t you?” Phobos falls silent, saying nothing. “Well, are you gonna give me an answer or not? You’re not the only one, in case you were wondering.” 

“Yes,” Phobos whispers, chest heaving and breath hitching as fresh tears stream down his cheeks. “Yes, I blame myself. I wasn’t there for him… I wasn’t in the room when he did it. I found him, I could have saved him if I’d just been there five minutes earlier… Oh, _god_ ,” Phobos sobs. Sacha places a hand on the smaller man’s shoulder, surprising himself with the comforting gesture, but he leaves it there anyway, if only to prevent more whining from the navigator.

“Look,” Sacha says quietly, “you couldn’t have done anything. He bled out too fast… You could have never gotten him to medical fast enough.” Phobos is still sniveling like a little bitch, so Sacha grabs his chin and forces Phobos to meet his eyes. “ _Listen_ to me, Jesus. He died in your arms, okay? That was one of the safest places in the world for him. At least he didn’t die alone.” 

Phobos stops crying for a moment. “He died saying your name, Cain,” Phobos whispers. “That’s the thing. Sure, we had sex. Sure, I loved him. But… he loved you, Cain. _You_. Not me.” Phobos’ eyes narrow, and his face takes on that stupid bitchy look again. “Of course, I don’t understand why,” he mutters. “I’m a much better catch, and so much _nicer_ … But I guess I don’t get to choose who people love.” 

The words are too real for Sacha, so he grinds his cigarette out with his boot and lets go of Phobos. “Do you know where Abel is?” Sacha asks. 

Phobos points to the graveyard. “That’s where I last saw him,” he says, shrugging. “But I wouldn’t be too worried about Abel. He’s… weird.” Sacha ignores him and trudges off, eager to find his navigator.

Of course Abel’s standing in the most obvious place ever — by Deimos’ grave. Sacha expected it to be a shitty little thing, maybe just a white wooden cross like they use for most soldiers from the colonies, but it’s actually a fancy, white marble slab, engraved with elegant lettering. Below Deimos’ name and dates of birth and death, it reads, “ _Beloved son, friend and loyal Fighter for the Federated Alliance.”_ Reading the words tears Sacha in two, and he stumbles into Abel’s waiting arms.

“Cain,” Abel breathes into his ear. “I’m so sorry I left, I should have gone after you, I know how upset you are about Deimos—”

“No,” Sacha says, shaking his head. “Not Cain. Sacha. And it wasn’t Deimos, it was Aleks. Those were our real names.” 

“Oh,” Abel says quietly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I tried to read the grave, but it’s in Russian, and I only speak English. Obviously.” He barks out a fake, forced laugh, the kind that Sacha hates to hear coming from his lover.

“I’m sorry,” he says in a low voice. “I just had to get out of there before I lost it. And it’s funny, cuz you know where I ended up? Our old house.” Sacha can feel the tears welling, but he forces them to stay inside, _don’t show Abel what a pussy you are, you’re the fighter, you’re supposed to be the_ strong _one_. 

“Oh!” Abel seems surprised. “You had a house together? Wow, I didn’t—” Abel stops mid-sentence when he sees the tears in Sacha’s eyes. “Oh, Sacha,” he sighs, brushing a thumb against his fighter’s cheek. “You can cry, you know. It’s okay to let it out, I won’t think any less of you for it.” When that doesn’t work, Abel adds, “You don’t have to be strong for anyone anymore. Deimos would understand.” At those words, Sacha loses it, just fucking _breaks_. He sobs into his navigator’s chest, completely soaking Abel’s thin white jacket, cries until he doesn’t think he has anything left. When he’s done, Sacha looks up and finds that Abel’s still there, kind and warm and loving as ever, and he knows that Abel won’t leave him, won’t abandon him for being too weak like the rest did. _Mama, Papa, Babushka, Tasha, Deimos… I’m sorry._

“I’m glad you let that out,” Abel says gently. “He cared about you, you know. He wouldn’t want you to feel like you had to hold your feelings in, just because Encke expects you to when you’re training. You’re not working when you’re alone with me, not unless we’re in the _Reliant_ or there’s an emergency alarm going off. It’s just me and you, and you can cry however much you want.” 

“I know. It’s just, I mean, _fuck_ , Abel,” Sacha hiccups, embarrassed but not caring because hell, that was probably what Aleks wanted anyway, and why not grant him his final wish, “I told him I’d never abandon him, and then I did, and now…” Sacha’s face grows angry, then sad, and finally settles into a look of cold understanding. “Now the bastard’s gone and abandoned me. Figures he’d have the last laugh.” 

“First, it’s Ethan,” Abel states, “and second, even if you feel like you abandoned him, I know Deimos would forgive you for that. Everyone makes mistakes, and Deimos struggled with inner demons that had nothing to do with you abandoning him.” Abel pauses, considering for a moment. “He left me a note,” he says softly.

“What?” Sacha cries, wrenching himself from his navigator’s arms. “Give it to me!” he demands.  Abel hesitates. “Now, damn it.” Complying, Abel reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a crumpled piece of paper, slightly soggy from Sacha’s tears, and hands it to him. Sacha eagerly unfolds the paper, eyes scanning it eagerly.

_Dear Abel,_

_I’ve made a very tough decision, and I won’t be able to take it back now. I’m sorry that I’m leaving you with this emotional burden, but you’re more responsible than Sacha (Cain to you), and I trust you to take care of him for me._

_I’ve struggled for a long time with the way I feel. I’ve loved Sacha for years, ever since we were kids, but I’ve never expected him to love me back. Have I wanted him to, longed for his affection, yearned for his touch? Of course. However, I’m not a stupid man, and I know that would be near impossible._

_I’m glad he’s found you. You’re good for him, and you help him in ways where I would destroy him. Sacha and I have a toxic relationship with each other, but because I love him, I do whatever he says; you are one of the few people who has the courage to stand up to him, Abel, and I admire you for that._

_Now that I am gone, I imagine Sacha will be a little upset. Please don’t let him break anything, and do_ not _put yourself in harm’s way just to comfort him. He is an angry person, but hopefully he will be gentle with you, since he loves you so much. Don’t let him wallow in his sorrow. Hide his cigarettes and his bottles of vodka that I know he keeps stashed in your room, because he’ll turn to those in times of need and will end up relying on them to function. I’ve seen many a man ruin themselves this way, and I will not allow Sacha to do that to himself. So please look after him, now that I cannot._

_Do not allow him to blame himself. He may feel that he abandoned me. I will be honest — yes, he did, but I am battling a monster far greater than he, a monster born out of rejection and heartbreak that has spiraled into a depression I cannot control. I know Sacha, he’ll claim he ignored the signs. Perhaps he overlooked the marks on my wrists, mistook them for scars gained from battling other fighters, but many people do the same, and that is not his fault. Sacha has far more important things to worry about than me._

_Please continue to love Sacha as best you can. Of course, if he verbally or physically abuses you, do not put up with it, but remember that he does love you very much, and once in a while, words will slip from his tongue that he does not mean. If this occurs too often, let Encke know, he’ll put some sense into him._

_Naturally, your own wellbeing is quite important and essential for Sacha’s mental health, so take care of yourself. Get away from Sacha when he proves to be too much, and confide in a comrade — I know Ethos and Keeler especially would be quite willing to talk to you about this matter. Though he is of a higher ranking than you, Keeler is a gentle soul, and I have talked to him before about personal matters, despite his navigator status. His door is always open for a fellow soldier._

_Thank you for doing this for me. I understand if you do not wish to follow through with any of this; even I know that I may be putting too large of a burden on you. But if you only do one thing for me, let it be this:_

_Tell Sacha that it’s okay to cry. He doesn’t have to be strong for me, or you, or anyone. I love him, and always will, and I know you do too, so it is very important to me that he understands this, and I am sure you will communicate it well._

_-Deimos/Myshonok_

Sacha can’t help but smile. “Silly little _myshonok_ , always getting in my business.” It’s just like Deimos to try to take care of Sacha, even from the afterlife, when it’s none of his damned business. Yet somehow, Sacha feels at peace knowing this, and looking at the cloudy colony sky, he knows that Deimos is here with him. Deimos, Aleks, his brave, fierce, clever _myshonok_. There’s a whisper in his head, and Deimos’ voice suddenly fills his mind. 

_“Please allow yourself to move on, Sacha. I love you, but it is time to let go. I am gone. I was your home once, but Abel is your home now. Let him be your new home.”_

“Come on,” Abel says, tugging on his arm. “Let’s get inside before it rains.” Sacha follows, and when Abel stops and kisses him at the doorway, for the first time in a long time, it feels like Sacha’s coming home.


End file.
